The Diego Diaries: Chaos 49
-0-Out there
Springer gripped a beam overhead as the ship shuddered. A flash of light filled the view port before the shuttle rolled heading downward toward safety. As they did, Springer looked at his pilot. "Open the channel."
He did and Springer leaned closer to the cockpit. "Green," he said.
Ships around the area let go, their fire supplemented by the Seekers who were grouped in bunches to maximize firepower. The flashes of fire were intense, all of the Autobots unloading at once as per orders. All over the mass of ships poised to defend, guns and rockets poured forth.
Then it ended.
Prime sat watching intently. "Springer, what is the status of the situation?"
"We're looking, Optimus," Springer replied as he stood compiling information. "We have obliterated eight ships and disabled the rest. We need to go through the debris and pull out survivors."
"Do it," Prime said. He leaned back and shook his helm. "This is fragged. They should have left or surrendered."
"In a perfect world, yes," Prowl said quietly. "If they are being affected by dark energon, they had less aptitude to do that than otherwise."
"The dark energon problem will make a lot of things harder, Prime," Ironhide said. "They'll be stupider than usual. You will have to make these decisions even though you don't want to."
Prime nodded. "I know. It's still hard to take." He looked at Ratchet. "Maybe you should get ready for casualties, Ratchet."
The big mech nodded and rose walking to the hatch. Strapping on the jet pack, he then turned and pushed out through the force field. Toodling through the darkness as he moved over the Guardians toward his own ship, he reached the doors of Kappa just in time to help receive the first of the Decepticon casualties.
-0-Autobot City, Mars, that evening
They walked down the street looking at the shops, businesses and places to eat and drink. It was an astonishing sight. No one on their side had ever been able to make anything even slightly similar to this miracle at any outpost or captured city they had ever been part of. It was homely to walk down the street mingling with civilians, soldiers and others. There were strange little aliens who zipped here and there on little machines. They appeared to be organic.
'Watch for them. Put them on your proximity sensors' they were told. They were allies who have helped kill The Fallen and others every time they showed up on the third planet from the sun they all shared. 'Proximity sensors full on forever here. Keep them on.'
They did.
Pausing outside Club Cybertron, they glanced at each other. They were sparkling new, their original colors at last covering their repaired and buffed chassises. Jetta had helped them get an apartment. It was beautiful, brand new and theirs. They had never had a home so beautiful, private and inviting. Two rooms for sleeping, a living and dining room, a kitchen with actual energon delivered from the wall dispenser and holy of holies, a private wash rack. They had scrubbed themselves for the first time in a long while, then followed Jetta to The Paint Box for detailing and armor repair.
It had been amazing to see their real colors replace the dull purple that had been their lot for eons. They had gotten their armor shined and allowed the Autobrand to be applied to the underside of their forearms. It had been a pause giving thing. But oddly enough, only for a moment. They were taken in by the Autobots. This place was opening up their life to include them. It was a small thing to do, to give their allegiance to a once hated faction that had shown both of them such mercy. They were both keenly aware that if the circumstances were reversed, the likelihood would not be the same.
They stood outside the Club and conversed internally, then turned as one to enter. They walked inside and paused at the bar ordering high grade. Looking around, they saw two mechs they knew from the Decepticons. Glancing at each other, both sides blinked in surprise. Then the two mechs waved for Coldspray and Hardtime to come over. Taking their cubes, they both walked over and sat.
-0-Ratchet
He pulled in broken bits of bots, their pieces magnetized to their bodies for easier repair. Handing some off to those capable of handling the cases, he reserved the worst ones for himself. "Make sure you take precautions. We are dealing with dark energon. It will harm you on contact." He had warned them and they made sure that the precautions necessary were taken. Dark energon pooled on the ground glowing oddly enough even in the brightness of the theater.
They had recovered 16 bots that had survived. As many if not more were scattered electrons and protons all over the battlefield. The Wreckers were scavenging among the debris looking for anything that was even remotely data based or alive. Hopefully, they would find intell that would add to the picture Ratchet knew Prowl and Prime were building of the menace facing them.
He worked madly, putting things back together, transfusing bots bleeding profusely and feeling some sort of relief when the energon slowly dripping onto the floor changed from violet red to pale blue. It was a start.
-0-Springer
They floated in the debris looking for anything remotely alive or useful. All of the obvious bots were carted off and the pieces of the remaining deceased were gathered as well. Ships were blown to bits, scattered all over the place. Some of the ships in the migration had scorch marks from the battle on their hulls because of the proximity of the bad guys to their own vessels. Some had breaches in their bulkheads from furiously flying debris. Those were being patched by Seekers.
He hung in space reconnoitering when three presences came to a stop beside him. He glanced at Kup, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. :'Bout time you got here, slackers:
Kup hung beside him champing on his stogie. :Slag, youngling. I told you to wait:
:If I waited for you, there would have been civilian casualties. Slow pokes:
Sideswipe looked at him with a grin. :Slagger:
Springer grinned. :Call me *Mr* Slagger. I outrank all of ya:
:For now: Sunstreaker said with a smirk. :You find anything interesting?:
:I found out that a misspent youth sometimes pays off: he said with a grin. :Right now, we're sweeping up. Grab a bucket and help:
Sunstreaker and Sideswipe nodded, moving forward with grins and determination to best each other in the search. They didn't say so to the other, they just did what came naturally. They floated off into the mayhem.
:Prime ordered this and I know he hated to do it:
:Prime believes in redemption, old mech. Can't say I blame him but sometimes you have to do the hard thing: Springer said.
Kup nodded. :Sometimes a slagging is the only way. Mech needed a tour with us. Would have cured him of his ways:
Both of them stared at the debris and then turned to look at each other. They grinned and said 'nah' at the same time. With a chuckle, both moved forward into the debris, fuel and flotsam that once was ships.
-0-Near the front
They came through the funnel of doom as a group and rounded the next batch of ships. Forming a circle around them to keep the horizon level, the Seeker escort led off about 200 more ships toward freedom and safety.
The migration was being assessed now that techs could go through it. Some ships were being sent forward because their civilian complement was needful of help. Others were given numbers to wait for the leaving. Each numbered group would leave in order. All of them were profusely grateful for the arrival of Seekers, techs, their Prime, the intervention of Primus and their all around proximity to everyone else. The gratitude was at nearly lethal levels of emotion.
-0-Prowl
He set the next four groups to move through the bridge, all of them lining up in order of departure. When it was clear that there would be a few moments, he rose and walked to the beds where the babies were lying. Looking down, he peered into the bright yellow optics of a silent waif who lay in his blankets while not making a sound. Reaching down, he plucked that baby up and tucked him into his arm. Returning, he sat and fed the baby with the tube in his wrist panel, the infant watching him as he fed hungrily.
"That is a sweet baby," Prime said looking up from his console.
"He is." Prowl looked at him. "We will arrange help at home. I would feel better if they were with us. Their genitors when they come will be glad their infants were that close to the Matrix."
Prime nodded. "I agree," he said soothingly. The image of babies floating in vacuum, their little arms and legs flailing as they tried to find something firm to grasp would haunt both of them for a long time.
"You can hold them. The Matrix will comfort them." Prowl kissed the little mech. He looked at Prowl, his optics drooping into recharge. "We will find their genitors. I am sick of orphans, Optimus," he said quietly. "I am filled with gratitude for the little mechs but I mourn their genitors every day."
Prime nodded. "I know. So do I."
They sat together making the migration ready as the joors passed by.
-0-Bluestreak, Tie Down and Ravel
Bluestreak tucked Hero into his hold, the tiny waif wrapped in blankets enveloped in warmth that the winger directed to her. A basket of femmes sat in the floor, both looking up at their atar with curious optics. Kaon was already in his arms as he waited for Praxus, Miracle and Orion. Tie Down and Ravel were getting the little mechs and Sunspot. They would make sure that they got to their football practices. They would all meet at the Residence for dinner before delegating the infants for the night.
The door opened again and Neo walked out, leashes in servo and Miracle in arms. Blue put Kaon down and gripped his leash as he took Miracle into his own arms.
"Do you think you can manage this, Bluestreak?" Neo asked with a grin.
"I think so. These three can walk. We're just going to the studio until Venture gets off work. Miler is needed at the Trigger until the vortex closes," Blue said as he took the leashes of the little ones.
They stood looking at each other with ginormous smiles. Then as one they looked up at Bluestreak. Smiling ginormously, they patted Blue's legs. Bluestreak snorted and chuckled. "This is going to be like herding cats."
Neo nodded. "I know that reference," she said. "Let me help you get them into the elevator." She picked up the basket and waited as Blue turned and tugged on the leashes. The infants looked at him and began to wander after him. Sort of. It would take a minute to get them on board.
Neo handed the basket to Bluestreak. "If you need help, call me and I'll come."
Bluestreak chuckled. "Count on it," he said as the doors closed. The ride down was noisy if not eventful. The chatter of the day's activities was a must do first thing for the babies. They told it all, some of it understandable, some of it not. When the doors opened, they wandered out, their amiable dawdling amusing to those waiting to go up.
Blue got them to the door and they stepped out turning to the street and the walk to the Cultural Center. It would take a great deal of time to walk, chat, stop and look at stuff, pause to talk to each other about something, look up at the sky in amazement, pat each other, fall down and get up, spat a little bit, hug each other, laugh uproariously about nothing that Bluestreak could make out, pause by the pathway to the tower where they lived, climb the curb and not fall, fall climbing the curb, laugh at the one falling on the curb, comfort the one who fell whose feelings got hurt, pause long enough to take the rocks out of the femme's basket that the babies put into it, try and follow someone else, tangling the leashes trying to follow someone else, falling down getting tangled up, comforting the 'owies' of the one who fell down, wait for a comforting group hug of the one who fell down, wait for the group chatter and all around check up by the others of the one who fell down, stop for a moment to let one demonstrate skippity-hopping to the others, watch with amusement as the others laugh in great happiness, wait as the others try skippity-hopping too, comfort two babies who fell down face first skippity-hopping, watch as one who can checks out the ones who can't, pause long enough to get the one who goes the opposite direction of the others because they're confused, comfort the confused one, tug them as they pause to look at older younglings passing by, move forward in the same direction, pause long enough for a gaggle of elderly to gush over the 'cute little sparklings!', get them going again, unwind them as they get mixed up going into the Cultural Center doors, get their leashes mixed up around the legs of other adults as they wander behind a fully determined Bluestreak, pause to unwind infants, pause to have the adults involved hug and smooch the 'slagging cute little sparklings!', walk to the elevator, wait for an elevator, get into the elevator, ride up with a lot of sparkling chatter telling about 'stuff', Orion's new word, exit the elevator … eventually, wander down the vast mezzanine, tug infants who want to enter the dojo, make it to the studio, drag them inside by the hair of their chinny-chin-chin.
Unhook.
Plop all the mechs in their little toy area.
Put tiniest femme in her little box bed on the couch.
Put the twinnie femmes in their own little toy area.
Fall on chair. Crash.
=0=TBC
2012 (10)